Nighthawks
by KatelynneElderledge
Summary: A late night meeting in a muggle diner in London.  slightly AU - alternative beginning . Loosely inspired by Edward Hopper's Nighthawks


She sighed and shifted in her seat, wondering yet again why she didn't make the man sitting so uncomfortably close to her move to one of the other hundred-or-so empty seats in the diner, or at least move to one herself. But she wouldn't move; there was an unspoken agreement that neither would back down from the situation.

To be completely truthful (a rare occurrence) she found a quiet comfort in the solitary presence at her elbow. It was odd, but just fifteen minutes by this strangers side had calmed her better than a two-hour bath with lavender _and_ rose oil could have possibly done.

Another half-hour passed and the only other customer in the dingy diner deep in muggle London left, so the waitresses began to clean up. As per usual, it took them thirty minutes to clean the sides and mop the floor. They were well practiced. It may have seemed unusual to an onlooker, but this was their routine. She would stay as late as possible until Nicola decided she really did need to lock up, when she would proceed to wander around London aimlessly. Then at some point, the band on her ankle would burn and she would turn on the spot – allowing her sires to guide her back to their house in the honourable countryside.

When she returned, Dro and Cissy would be asleep in the East Wing. She prefered it now they slept there – there was no chance of them hearing her screams. She could see Nicola was about to ask her leave when the man next to her spoke **"**_Why do you come here every night?_**"** she stared at him, confused. **"**_You always come here at eleven when the diner opens and leave at two after it closes. I'm just curious as to know why._**"** She spent her time pondering the answer to his question, and was glad of the chestnut- haired character who had calmed her so successfully.

Normally, she would hex anyone who tried to talk to her, so Sally appeared to almost collapse when she replied, not only with a polite and cordial tone, but without insults (veiled or otherwise). **"**_Because I have nowhere else I'd rather be._**"** It was a short reply, but it explained her feeling succinctly. **"**_I'd rather be here than anywhere else. Anywhere else reasonably possible anyway_.** "** He leant his head on his hand, his elbow on the counter top. **"**_Where is this 'anywhere else' you speak of?_**"** he asked (correctly) guessing that she had been thinking of a specific place when she said 'anywhere else'. He smiled and, walnut eyes twinkling, stood. **"**_It's clear these lovely ladies wish to close up their diner, so may I ask you to consider my question outside_ _?_**"** Nicola and Sally shot me a glance , relief and concern waring in their eyes. **"**_Of course, Mr Viddle_.**"** She replied. The man showed no surprise, though his eyes momentarily flash red. But as she'd hoped, the waitress' worries fled from their faces.

She rose to join him and they left the restaurant, the door jingling shut behind them and his arm on her waist to guide her down the street. She followed his directions numbly, aware she could hex him if he attacked her, but still somehow trusting this strange young man.

Eventually, she realised she hadn't answered his question. **"**_Home_.**"** She stated. **"**_Home is anywhere else_.**"** She didn't understand why she was telling this to a stranger, but it felt so good to get it of her chest. She glanced up at him, then shied away from his intense gaze. She shuddered at the cold and continued. **"**_I spend my time at this diner because I can spend my time watching people come and go rather than wondering what's going on at home. I'd rather spend my time in a muggle caf__è than with my sisters because their innocent faces remind me of what happens every night, or should I say morning, when Father is drunk with power and Mama is just plain drunk_.**"** Silence reigned, then she started when she realised what she had said. She was so stupid, how could she forget he was a mug- **"**_Yes, it can be entertaining watching the stupid muggles carrying on their daily routines as they ignore the doom that could fall on them at any moment. But I guess that's true of some wizards as well, stupid mudbloods and blood-traitors_.**"** She froze in shock, then sighed in relief that she wouldn't get her Father into trouble with the Ministry.

"_I don't know your name_,**"** he said, breaking her from her reverie **"**_I don't know yours either_,**"** she retorted aware of how childish she sounded only after it had escaped her lips, while simaltaneously biting her lip in an attempt to stop herself from saying anything stupid. No hesitation **"**_Tom Riddle_.**"** A lot more hesitation. **"**_Bellatrix_.**"** He accepted her lack of surname, or at least ignored it. And continued walking.

She wasn't sure what made her open up to him. That night she discussed her darkest secrets, her deepest fears and most daring wishes. The ever aloof Bellatrix Black did not speak by herself though. Strolling through London she learned of his hopes, ambitions, and passions. He told her of his past and his plans for the future. After sharing so much it seemed natural to lean over and rest her head on his shoulder as they sat on a bench and watched the sun rise. He stiffened, but relaxed when he realised she wanted nothing more than a little human contact.

"_Tonight_.**"** His voice rang in the silence. **"**_Meet me again. Outside the diner at ten_.**"** **"**_I'll try_.**"** Doubt coloured her voice. Her parents (if she could truly call them that) would be exceedingly angry at her late night (early morning) outing. **"**_If I can't come tonight I swear I'll find a way to come tomorrow_.**"** She prayed he would understand. **"**_I promise, nothing will keep me away_.**"** Desperation filled her voice as persuading him became the only thing that mattered. **"**_Of course_.**"** He replied, as though he had expected nothing less. She rose from the bench and turned to look at him. She stared deep into his eyes and was momentarily lifted from her fear of the punishment that would come from breaking her three o'clock curfew so spectacularly. **"**_It will get better_,**"** He whispered, afraid she would fall back into the hole of depression that was so all-encompassing. **"**_You'll find a way to cope_.**"** She smiled, the first in minutes (and before those short hours, years). **"**_I will_.**"** She turned and sauntered away, wondering whether she already had.


End file.
